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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22442839">Andante</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/horologiiums/pseuds/horologiiums'>horologiiums</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, No Dialogue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:27:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22442839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/horologiiums/pseuds/horologiiums</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He loved watching her sleep.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Andante</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He loved watching her sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the day reached its end and the sun would finally dip below the horizon to give way to the silver glow of the moon, they would set aside their work for the day and huddle under the covers of their shared bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once settled, she would roll onto her side and worm her way over to him. A hand would always find a part of him to touch, whether it be his arm, a single finger, or the part of his chest where she could feel the unyielding, steady beat of his heart pulsing against her palm. Occasionally, she would play with the delicate ring that hung from his ear, seemingly taking pride in the way that she involuntarily tickled him as she did so. She was the only person who he would ever allow to feel him in such a way; with the number of assassination attempts he faced hanging from his neck like charms on a lead necklace, he trusted no one but her to caress him and cradle him so intimately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And her eyes, her eyes would watch him, never once abandoning him in favor of something else. He adored the way that she looked at him, how she had never judged him or silenced him because of the way he looked, how she instead viewed him for who he was: a simple, lonely man with his heart and soul kept hidden from the rest of the world, concealed tightly under a lock and key. A key that he had long since lost, had given up on ever finding again, until the wash of starlight that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>crafted herself into the tool needed to pick him free from the prison he had ensnared himself in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her sights would remain set on his face, on all of his expressions that he would only allow her to view, until her eyelids grew heavy with sleep. A struggle was inevitable, for she apparently did not wish to slip into slumber before he did, desiring to keep watch over him, to protect him from any nightmares or terrors that he would so often fall victim to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she was human, as human as anybody else, and her body could not withstand the lack of rest for long. She drifted off soundlessly, small puffs of breath and dreamy sighs the only noises to pass through her in her new found unconscious state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he watched her, moved some loose strands of hair that had fallen onto her cheek back into place behind her ear — her hair that appeared to twinkle like stars when under the moonlight that crept onto their bed through the wide, arched window. Her hair that was soft and silky between his fingers despite her claiming that taking care of it was nothing but a nuisance. Her hair that carried the scent of peonies and jasmine — </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>scent — that promised to lull him into a deep sleep no matter the worries or anxieties that stuck to his bones like a bloodstain on a white garment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, during her dreams, her lips would move and twitch, not necessarily mouthing unspoken words, but mimicking the action of speech. It was easy to lose himself in the wonders of what she could be seeing in her mind’s eye, if she was seeing him, if they were engaged in a conversation together. Was it a happy dream or a silly one; one of a memory or one of a make believe, fantastical world? He would never know unless he asked her directly, but he found himself more than content with admiring how her jaw slackened as the last traces of tension faded from her features, how he could hear her breaths through her lips, the sound of her voice leaking through the light whines that naturally fell out of her. Witnessing her calmed, her own dilemmas lost to the tide of sleep, made his own shrink down and become even smaller than they once had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t an active sleeper, never really moving much at all, but at times, she would wriggle even closer to him, seeking out his warmth. Unconsciously, she would roll into his side, gracelessly clambering on top of him. And she would keep rolling until he put an arm around her small but built form. Only then would she become agreeable, giving one last snuggle against his chest before returning to stillness. Half of the time, he was under the impression that she was only feigning sleep, but despite her stony-faced front, he knew that she was quite the amateur actor and liar, at least by his standards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loved watching her sleep, could do so for hours, but he too was a simple human. Before long, sleep tugged on his eyelids and weighed his body down like it was made of heavy, black stone. As best he could, he kept his sights trained on her in the darkness of night, always wanting her face to be the last thing he saw before losing himself to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t all bad though, for he knew that when morning came, the first thing his eyes would take in would be her pretty, doe-like gaze smiling at him in the sunlight’s warm gleam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She loved watching him sleep, after all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>idek what this is. thanks if you made it to the end! toast out.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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